


Don't Make Deals in the Dark

by DefinitelyNotScott



Series: Fictober 2018 Pieces [3]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angel & Demon Mythos, Background Lore 1.0 Assumptions, Ezreal POV, F/M, I'm sure other people don't make that distinction I'm probably just weird, Warning for creepy ogling of an unconscious woman, Yeah there’s an Angel & Demon AU tag but I’d have to do research for that. Add “Mythos” & it’s fine.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotScott/pseuds/DefinitelyNotScott
Summary: Ezreal bargains with an ominous creature to heal his guardian angel's injuries.Fictober18 Day 3 prompt “How can I trust you?”





	Don't Make Deals in the Dark

Ezreal watched their host bend over Lux, arranging her limbs so that her wings were free while the wound on her leg was accessible for treatment. Sick worry twisted in his stomach. He remembered her limp weight on his back as he carried her away from the wyrm’s still twitching corpse.

When this guy had swept down out of the sky, dark, batlike wings flaring wide, Ezreal had been startled and combative. Lux wasn’t in any shape for a second battle, so he’d been on edge and ready to fight, despite not really being in the shape for it either. At least he was _conscious_. 

But the confrontation had been purely verbal - pointing out that his options were to keep going with no actual guarantee that there was water ahead or to accept the offer of shelter and healing from the stranger. So despite the horns and prominent canines he’d accepted. Now, hidden deep in a cave, watching their host’s tail lash slowly as his eyes lingered on Lux’s unconscious form, he wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision.

“So, uh,” he tried to draw the other’s attention. “I don’t think I asked your name earlier?”

He turned to face Ezreal, a grin baring his sharp canines. “No, you didn’t,” he said. 

But before Ezreal could address how unhelpful that answer was, he brought out a knife.

“Hey, whoa!” Ezreal said. “She doesn’t need more holes punched in her!”

“No, but you do.” His head cocked to give Ezreal an amused look, and only the fact that he’d laid the knife down kept him from getting a Mystic Shot to the face, then and there.

“Uh…” he said, wanting to back away, but not wanting to abandon Lux.

“I’m not a healer, but there are ways to gain health back by _taking_ it from someone else.”

“It sounds like you’re talking vampirism,” Ezreal said, his hand clenching in his gauntlet. Lux needed the healing, but he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. 

“Not exactly. It’s more closely related to berserking, or battlelust.” 

Ezreal silently changed ‘battlelust’ to ‘bloodlust’ in his head.

“First, that still sounds _hella_ like vampirism, and second, how does you stabbing _me_ equate to _Lux_ getting healed.” 

Watching winged people shrug was always fascinating, even in a situation like this. 

“I simply redirect the health from me to her.”

That sounded vaguely plausible, but also slightly crazy. Ezreal wished that he knew a little more about the mechanics of magic. His usual seat-of-the-pants techniques didn’t really help him with this kind of question. His gaze drifted back to Lux, still and pale, the wound on her leg bleeding slowly.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Hold out your free arm and try not to flinch.” His teeth flashed again in another smile. “It makes it easier not to hit anything important.”

“Nnn. Fine.” Ezreal pushed his sleeve up to leave his right forearm bare. So he was going to let a complete stranger stab him. He still wasn’t taking his gauntlet off. He stepped forward and held his arm out.

His host picked up the knife, eyes running over the newly exposed skin.

“How can I trust you?” Ezreal asked, meaning more than just the bloodletting. 

“You can’t,” the other said with a toothy grin. The knife came down.


End file.
